


Musical

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:22:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8685583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo has music for her, but Phasma is not... entirely occupied.





	

Phasma drops her head onto his shoulder, letting the music wash through the room. She’s never been one for listening to it before, but he insisted she try. There’s coloured lights flickering over the holo-screen, bathing the room in diffuse glows. It’s… nice. Sort of. She thinks maybe she’s missing the point, because it’s not quite distracting enough.

And when she’s not distracted enough, she gets… inventive.

Like now. When she slides her hand from his knee higher up. They’re just in underwear, snuggling under the covers. She’s not sure why he kept his boxers on today, but it could have been to dissuade her from distracting him like this. Like… a palm over the groin. She runs her fingers over the shape of him below the cloth, feeling his flaccid size.

He’s not even small to begin with, and when he’s fully with the program, he’s satisfyingly thick. She has no complaints whatsoever, other than there not being time enough in the day for what she wants to do with (to, for, on, under) him. Kylo doesn’t stop her, but he does part his legs slightly, allowing her the room to continue her explorations.

As her hand strokes over his shaft, letting the silken material slide over his smoother flesh, he reaches under her arm, putting the heel of his palm on her mound. Not one to be outdone, she pinches her fingers and thumb under the swell of his cockhead, right as she feels fingers stroke low, where her lips snuggle together.

“You were supposed to be listening.”  


“I do that with my ears,” she reminds him, and thumbs hard over the crown.  


He snorts, and two fingers draw repeated lines over the dark line between her folds, and she feels the start of the warmth pooling. She feels him nudge them open, then pinch them shut around his fabric-clad fingers. 

Phasma drops her head onto his shoulder, then slips her fingers below his boxers. Her fingers draw up and down, then she pulls and pinches at the looser skin, before starting her twisting-pull movements. Her hand can only manage about three quarters at once, so there’s plenty of give as she jerks him off.

If he does it to himself, he goes hard and fast. Much like she does for herself, if she’s honest. Alone, it had always been about getting over the edge as fast as possible. Rushing towards the release, to the floaty feelings after. With him, she’s learned patience (of a sort). His fingers push her panties to one side, going in at an angle. His large hand cups her tight together, and she’s left uncomfortably grinding into his palm for the friction. She’s getting slicker inside, threatening to seep out.

“I like the music,” she says, as she nibbles at his neck.   


“It made me think of you,” he replies.  


That’s touching, and she feels a little guilty, now. “You’re too kind,” she says, and starts to pummel his dick in her fist. She’s not feeling like slow tonight.

Kylo snorts, and drags a finger through her slit, even as he crushes her tighter closed. Over and over, the end of each flick a torture on her clit. She’s drenching by degrees, and when he finally gives her a finger at her hole she wants to _beg_. But she won’t. Not even when he tickles at her entrance and makes her leg twitch. 

Nope. Instead, she scrunches at his balls, then starts to jerk him off in earnest. That sharp, evil way he loves so much. She bites her lower lip as she makes him whimper, the sound going up her back and into her hair. Oh… yes.

He grabs her hand with his free one, making her still as he catches her up. She flexes her hand over his shaft without moving as he pushes three fingers right into her. It’s not rough, because she’s more than ready for it. His thumb teases just below her clit as he fingers her as wide as he can. She can feel the chill against her skin, and into her open, squelching hole. Harder, and she bites her own fist, the music forgotten. 

“Want to come alongside you,” he rasps, his voice hungry and lean. “Tell me. Tell me when you’re close.”  


She nods, riding his hand for all she’s worth. A little more. Just a little more. She slides another two fingers in with him, her walls clenching and squirting out the rest of her juices over his hand. He figures enough to let her move hers, and she hits him so hard she’s nearly worried about bruising his balls, but then she feels his release crest alongside hers. So close, and he’s spilling all over the sheets as she leaks out from their sticky fingers into her panties. 

It takes long moments for the thrumming to die down, and she moves to straddle his knee and lie full-out across one half of him.

“Going to need to listen to it again,” she suggests, and rubs her damp panties on his thigh.  


“Anything for you.”  



End file.
